Miss Wings: Criminal Minds
by thetobimeister
Summary: Monica moves on from 1978 into the 21st century. Joining a team of FBI profilers, she helps liaison Jennifer Jareau overcome her guilt concerning a previous criminal case, while saving a victim related to a previous heavenly case.
1. Guilt

"All of these babies are so cute, Tess!"

Surrounded by a most pleasant and innocent ambience, Tess and Monica, two hard-working angels visited the maternity ward of the Saint Maria Hospital in Northern Virginia. They looked through the glass at the many newborns, and Monica gave them all friendly stares, welcoming them into the world.

"They are," Tess agreed cheerily. "They really are."

"Look at that one," Monica chuckled. "He has the reddest hair I've ever seen! He must be of Irish descent. That's lovely."

"People are people, Miss Wings," Tess reminded gently. "You can't have a preference for Irish people just because God gave you red hair and an accent."

"I know, Tess," Monica assured, still staring at the crying babies behind the glass.

Suddenly, a blond man with a somber expression came out of the one of the hospital rooms nearby. He joined Monica and Tess by the observation glass, his gloomy atmosphere brutally cutting into the joyful one already established.

Monica slowly turned to face the man as a bittersweet frown came upon her face. Her eyes observed him sadly.

"Andrew, why are you here?" she asked, though her eyes insisted that she already knew the answer.

"I just took a stillborn," he sighed quietly. "Gosh, it's already 2006, and they still can't save every single baby."

"We know that being the Angel of Death is hard," Tess grimaced, putting her hand on Andrew's shoulder.

"It can be," he agreed grimly. "But that bouncing baby boy is in his Father's arms now."

Just as Andrew finished his last few words, a man came out of the same hospital room Andrew did. The man had a chilling look on his face, and sweat was all across his forehead and cheeks. He wore a doctor's uniform, a tight blue cap, and long, latex gloves that were covered with blood.

"My baby! How could you do this!" A woman's distressed screams came from the room, and the doctor looked back at the doorway anxiously. Tears filled up his eyes, and he leaned against the wall outside the room.

"Is that the doctor?" Monica asked worriedly, staring at the doctor with wide eyes. "Did he deliver the stillborn?"

"Yes," Andrew frowned. "And he is feeling terribly guilty."

"But why should he?" Monica questioned, giving Tess an imploring glance. "It wasn't his fault that the baby died, was it? It is all in God's plan, right?"

"Well, of course," Andrew answered slowly. "And something good will come out of this, I'm sure of it. But, right now, he can't erase that baby's face from his mind. And I may just have to stick around with him for tonight."

"You mean suicide?" Monica's voice was as cold as ice as she stared at the doctor. She observed the complete sorrow on the man's face as Tess grabbed her hand.

"Monica, guilt can haunt people for a very long time," Tess explained gently. "And it can make them do crazy things. But God sent Jesus here to take away all guilt from the hearts of the people. And we can help by delivering His messages."

"Is he my next assignment?" Monica asked, an eagerness in her voice.

"No, you'll meet her soon," Tess assured, turning Monica back to the observation glass. "And there has already been an angel assigned to that man. Ah, look at that baby they're bringing in now."

A new born was carried into the room behind the glass by a calm, affectionate nurse. She placed the baby in a cradle directly behind the glass, in perfect view of the three angels.

"Well, look at those pretty blue eyes and that blond hair," Tess beamed. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Monica was silent as she frequently glanced over at the weeping doctor down the hall. Her attention was obviously compromised, but Tess wasn't one to allow for distracted angels.

"Is she not your cup of tea, Miss Wings?" Tess questioned sternly. "Just because she's not obviously Irish doesn't mean you shouldn't take interest in this little baby here."

Just as Tess had intended, Monica gave a repentant grin towards Tess before she started to observe this blond baby before her. And as she looked at the baby, her eyes lit up.

"Goodness, she is beautiful," Monica smiled. "She is adorable!"

"Her name is Allison Christmas Kingston," Tess informed excitedly.

"Christmas?" Monica asked. "Well, that is an odd middle name for a wee baby, is it not?"

"It was an odd first name for her grandmother," Tess smirked happily. "But she got by with a nickname."

Monica's whole body froze. She turned to face Tess, a stern, confused look upon her face. As Tess continued to grin all the more, a smile started to form across Monica's mouth.

"Tess, you couldn't be talking about…Chrissy Snow, could you?"

"Chrissy Snow from Santa Monica?" Tess suggested mysteriously. "The one who roomed with Jack Tripper and Janet Wood? Well, I am. I definitely am."

"Oh, Tess!" Monica exclaimed, starting to jump up and down. "Tess, I'm going to see Chrissy again? This is amazing! I can hardly believe this!"

"Well, believe it, angel girl," Tess beamed. "And, you may feel a bit honored when I tell you that little Allison's mother's name is, in fact, Monica."

"Chrissy named the baby after me?" Monica questioned blissfully. "That is wonderful!"

"Oh, well, if it isn't the Trippers," Tess noted, her eyes trailing behind Monica.

A piercing exclamation of joy filled the hospital's halls as Monica turned around to see Jack and Brooke Tripper observing her with immense surprise. The elated angel ran over to her old friends and embraced them eagerly.

"Monica, is it really you?" Brooke asked, grabbing onto Monica's arms and looking over the angel's face. "It can't be. Oh, it must be!"

"It's me!" Monica insisted cheerily. "And it's you! Goodness, Brooke, Jack, I've missed you both so much!"

"And you haven't aged a bit," Brooke observed enviously. "Why, I have to go in to the beauty salon ever month to have my gray hairs touched up!"

"You still look beautiful, honey," Jack whispered to Brooke. "But, Monica, you do look exactly the same."

Monica nervously blushed and gave Brooke a worried look. Brooke just laughed and took Monica's hand.

"I hope you don't mind," Brooke started, "but I ended up telling Jack about your…occupation."

"Oh, I don't mind at all!" Monica chuckled, a relieved expression upon her face. "As long as it brought you closer together."

"Well, we got married," Jack informed happily.

"Of course!" Monica exclaimed. "How has life been for you?"

"We just sent our youngest boy John off to college in Massachusetts," Brooke told with a bit of nervousness. "He's going to Berklee School of Music!"

"And Brian, our oldest is in Harvard law school," Jack stated proudly.

"Christina is about to finish her pre-med from UCLA," Brooke continued. "She's going to eventually become a pediatrician. It's so exciting!"

"I'm so happy I've run into you guys again!" Monica beamed. "Have you come to see the baby?"

"Oh, yes," Brooke sighed as if she had just remembered something important. "Yes, we had better do that, Jack."

"Hey, Chrissy is in room number 316 with Monica, Michael and Alex," Jack said, looking at Monica. "I'm sure she would love to see you."

"And I would love to see her," Monica grinned. "Go, see the baby. I'll go see Chrissy. Wow, I'm going to see Chrissy! This is incredible!"

An excited Monica left Jack and Brooke to find room 316. She peeked her head inside, looking as innocent as a child. Inside, a new, exhausted mother lie on a bed with a young man by her side, holding her hand tenderly. At the foot of the bed was an older man standing beside a familiar blue-eyed blond, whose harmless smile lit up the whole room.

"Halloo," Monica greeted, slowly walking into room. "My name is Monica."

"Monica!" Chrissy shouted, her stunned eyes examining the angel frivolously. "Monica, my gosh, it's you!"

"Yes," Monica grinned merrily.

"Oh, Monica!" Chrissy exclaimed, rushing over to Monica and wrapping her arms around her. "I've missed you so much! It's been so long!"

"It certainly has!" Monica agreed quickly. "Twenty-seven years usually doesn't seem too long for me. But I guess missing you made the years a whole lot slower."

"Monica!" Chrissy smiled, looking at the young woman in the bed. "This is my old friend Monica, your namesake."

"It's wonderful to meet you," the new mother insisted enthusiastically. "I've heard so many good things about you. My mom said you actually saved her life."

"It is an honor to finally know you," the older man at the foot of the bed told, shaking Monica's hand. "I'm Chrissy's husband Alex. You really helped my wife."

"Oh, Chrissy, you got married," Monica chuckled happily. "That's wonderful."

"And this is my son-in-law Michael," Chrissy introduced, gesturing to the content looking man holding the young mother's hand.

"It's great to meet you," Michael said, obviously still flustered about his daughter being born.

"This is our first grandbaby," Chrissy informed excitedly. "We're all a little shaken up about her."

"I saw her down the hall," Monica smirked. "She is a beautiful baby."

"Thank you," Michael replied happily.

Suddenly, a young blond woman entered the room. Her eyes were wide and excited and showed that she was obviously running on quite a bit of coffee. She wore a smart, professional outfit, as well as an FBI badge hanging from the bottom of her blazer.

"JJ!" Monica, Chrissy's daughter, beckoned the entering woman towards her. They shared a quick hug while JJ caught her breath.

"Gosh, Monica, I'm sorry I'm late," JJ started with a long sigh. "We just got off the plane an hour ago, and I rushed in from Quantico as fast as I could."

"I'm just glad you could make it," the new mother smiled. "Those cases take you away from me a lot, you know."

"Well, I've got to be here for my goddaughter," JJ grinned.

"We'll let you girls chat," Chrissy said quickly, rushing her angel friend out of the room.

When they were alone, Chrissy gave Monica another hug and squealed like a little girl. "Goodness, Monica, how could it really be you?"

"I've got a case here in Virginia," Monica informed. "Actually, I'm curious to know how you, Jack, and Brooke ended up in Virginia. And where is Janet?"

"Well, Jack and Brooke got married and decided to move here to be close to Brooke's parents," Chrissy explained. "And I moved along with them so that Monica could have a father-figure in Jack. And I met Alex here, and we got married. As for Janet, she stayed in Santa Monica, got married, and then moved to Ohio, where she opened up her own flower shop."

"Wow," Monica sighed. "That's incredible that of all places I could be assigned, it would be here in Virginia. I'm so glad to see you, Chrissy!"

"I've truly missed you, Monica," Chrissy assured, giving Monica another hug. "Hey, how did you know Jack and Brooke were here too?"

"They came by the window when I was there just a few minutes ago," Monica enlightened. "They're actually looking at the baby now."

"Oh, yes, they stopped by the room," Chrissy laughed. "Monica, do you have to leave?"

"I'm afraid so," Monica admitted sheepishly. "I have a job to do."

"Alright." Chrissy's eyes turned a deeper blue as tears formed on them. It appeared the new grandmother would surely start to cry, but she only smiled brightly. Her joyful expression lit up the hall, and she squeezed Monica's hand. "Go do angel things, my friend."

"I will." A bittersweet grin eroded on Monica's face. But God gave her a comfort in knowing she would see her friends again. She started down the hall towards Tess and anticipated her newest challenge that God had awarded her. Her heart longed to serve.


	2. Agent O'Dooley

My heart was beating at an uneasy pace. A strange stinging ran through my veins. No matter how much I tried to shut off my mind, I kept thinking and thinking. Finally, I couldn't take the silence any longer.

In my tiny apartment in Quantico, at one in the morning, I turned on the television and tried to enjoy an episode of CSI. Two investigators were entering a large warehouse full of gang members. The investigators wore menacing expressions and had their guns drawn as if CSI investigators regularly stormed dangerous warehouses without the police or the FBI with them.

But there they were, quietly walking through the warehouse, safely together. Suddenly, there was a new hallway to explore, and one suggested that they split up. I grabbed a pillow from my couch and wrapped my arms around it, hoping it would protect me from what was surely going to happen. Anxiously, I clung to the pillow, trying to control my thoughts, wishing I would stop thinking of Spencer.

The two investigators took separate paths, and I could hear the chilling soundtrack start to play. One agent walked down a hall with her gun shakily in her hand, while the other one's heavy breathing could be heard loud and clear over the music.

And then, so suddenly, a gunshot rang out.

I jumped up from the couch, grabbed the remote control, and turned off the TV. Pain, anger, and anxiety welled up inside of me, and I closed my eyes tightly. With intense rage, I threw the pillow onto the couch, picturing it to be the man who took Spence. Or maybe even myself.

My phone started to ring. I slowly took it out of my pocket and opened it up. It was Monica. She sent an adorable picture of baby Allison in Michael's arms. The innocent child had a brilliant smile worth a million diamonds.

The atmosphere in the picture was the exact opposite of the ambience I felt in my own little apartment. Baby Allison shined the light of a new, blameless creature, while I was the perfect image of a criminal. How could I be so stupid? How could I have let Spence go off by himself? It wasn't smart. It wasn't protocol.

I unclipped my FBI badge from my blazer and stared at it, feeling completely unworthy to own it. "SSA Jennifer Jareau," it read. But I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that I was really a Supervisory Special Agent of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. It wasn't right. Why did I still have this badge?

It was early morning the next day when I arrived at the FBI headquarters. I rushed over to the coffee machine and poured myself a second cup of the day. Pretty soon the rest of my team would be coming in, and I had to be awake and ready for them.

As the team liaison, I had to arrive an hour earlier than anyone else to choose a case for us to take on. But usually Gideon would be in the building even earlier than I was, looking over old cases or reading books on psychology. Today, he wasn't here. He had resigned a few days ago suddenly. Maybe he realized how messed up his liaison was and he wanted to be as far away from me as he could.

I chose a case quickly and headed back to the coffee machine. For a few minutes, I just stood there with my coffee mug in hand, contemplating if I should really have more coffee. I needed more energy, but, at the same time, the drink would make me think faster, and my thoughts were already racing through my brain cruelly.

"Hey, JJ." I heard his sweet, childlike voice, and my whole body froze. Spencer Reid, the smartest and youngest of the team was smiling at me with a friendly expression. He looked at me as if I had never betrayed him, as if two months ago hadn't happened at all. I tried as hard as I could to smile back at him, but a mild grimace was all I could conjure.

"Hi, Spence," I sighed as he walked over to me.

"You really ran off the plane last night," he chuckled awkwardly.

"Oh, yeah, my friend was having a baby," I replied quietly, pouring myself my third cup of coffee that morning just to distract myself from Spence. "My new goddaughter, actually. I almost made it in time for the birth, but I barely missed it."

"That's too bad."

I finally looked up from my coffee to see Spence's face. His shy eyes and clumsy posture almost made me grin. He was so innocent and sweet, and I admired how he could stay that way even while working on the gruesome cases we had. And it baffled me that he was still so pure after his ordeal. But I convinced myself that he was just hiding the pain that I had caused him. He was kidnapped and tortured, all because I wouldn't follow protocol.

"Hey, Jayje." Penelope Garcia, our eccentric technical analyst greeted me with cheerful eyes. She walked up to Spence and I, wearing her bright, peculiar apparel as well as her strange blue glasses. "Spencer Reid. How are you two?"

"I'm quite well, actually," Spence informed casually.

"I'm fine," I lied simply. "How about you, Penelope?"

"It's been a bad day for the cyber world," Penelope sighed angrily. "Facebook has been down for a whole eight hours. You can bet that my next status update will be a furious hate letter to the creator himself!"

"Baby Girl, Facebook will be up soon enough," a cheery Derek Morgan chuckled, walking out of the bullpen to the three of us. "Until then, Hotch just called me. He wants us to meet up with Prentiss in the briefing room and wait for him. He said he's going to be a bit late."

"Hmm, late," Penelope smirked. "It is very possible to assume Mr. Aaron Hotchner could be late because of a certain Mrs. Aaron Hotchner…"

"And we all know you will," Derek laughed. "Come on, Baby Girl."

We all headed to the briefing room, where Emily Prentiss was calmly sitting at the round table. I quickly sat to her left, knowing Penelope would sit to my left, keeping Spence from sitting next to me. A feeling of safety did start to possess me, until Spence sat directly across from me. I did everything I could to keep his deep brown eyes from catching mine.

"Where's Hotch?" Emily asked, awkwardly fixing her neat raven-black hair.

"He's having a little early morning fun with Mrs. Hotchner," Penelope suggested playfully.

"Don't assume things, Garcia," Derek smiled. "Just wait a minute."

Suddenly, Aaron entered the room, an attractive, auburn young woman following behind him. The stern character of Aaron Hotchner was incredible in comparison to the timidity of the woman.

"Or maybe not with Mrs. Hotchner," Penelope whispered anxiously.

"Good morning, everyone," Aaron greeted, his eyes running by the other agents and I. "As you may have noticed, Agent Gideon was not with us on our last case. He did resign four days ago. I've found an agent to replace him temporarily. Everyone, this is Supervisory Special Agent Monica O'Dooley."

Instead of the friendly classroom greeting, everyone was silent. A certain atmosphere of composure was required in the briefing room, so we all kept still, staring at this new, friendly-looking agent. I did notice Spence give a gawky grin and a short wave, which Monica returned immediately with vibrancy.

"Agent O'Dooley worked in the police, as well as some cases dealing with child abductions," Aaron explained. "I believe she is the right agent for this job."

He looked over at Monica with the same expression he always had. It never changed. But, unlike the rest of us, she did not understand that he obviously intended for her to say a few words. She just smiled pleasantly and twirled on her heels innocently.

"Agent O'Dooley," Aaron started quietly. "Would you like to say anything about yourself."

"Oh, well, sure," she replied in a happy Irish accent. "Halloo, my name is Monica. I'm eager to help all of you catch some bad guys."

Again, we all were hushed. The silly grin upon this gracious Irishwoman was a bit hilarious, but it wasn't protocol to laugh. If there was any protocol I could follow that was as easy as this, I was going to follow it.

"Alright, have a seat, O'Dooley."

Monica quickly obeyed Aaron and took a seat between Spence and Derek. Her polite eyes greeted every one of us, but I hardly felt like being social with anyone, even only by glances.

"JJ, what do you have for us?" Aaron asked, sitting down beside Derek.

"Kidnapping, rape, and murder," I sighed, rising from my seat and turning on the power point on the television. Three women popped up on the screen. "Melissa Mathers, Carrie Leo, and Joanna Fairwaters from a city just outside of Toledo, Ohio. They are all in their mid-twenties with very dark hair. Melissa was taken on July 30, and her body was found August 3. Carrie was taken on August 7, found August 13. Joanna went missing on August 15 and was found on August 24."

"He's taking a longer time with them when he has them," Aaron noted. "But the time between victims is reducing."

"And there was evidence of rape on each one of them?" Emily asked wincingly.

"Yep," I answered, feeling a small shiver along my spine.

"His sexual tension is rising with each kidnapping," Derek assumed. "He's keeping victims longer only because he has to. He can't help but to rape more often."

"Are you saying that this man is raping and murdering these women?" Monica suddenly asked, her voice full of surprise and disgust.

Aaron stared at her curiously, then looked away quickly. "We have his MO. And we also have an extended time to rescue his next victim. JJ, does he have another victim?"

My brain froze as I realized I didn't have the answer to Aaron's question. I scrambled over to the case file I had brought in to the briefing room. My body cringed at how unprofessional this all was, and I shakily took out the victim's list.

"Shelly Morrison," I read off the paper. "She went missing two days ago on August 25."

"So we can predict we have twelve days at the least to find her," Aaron sighed. "JJ, where are the copies of the files for the whole team?"

"I-I forgot to copy everything, sir." The usual "Hotch" didn't sound appropriate at this moment in time. This particular mistake would have been minor in a regular business office, but at the FBI, it cost a lot of time. I could already picture Aaron calling Strauss, the director of the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

"JJ, how early do you make it to the bullpen?"

"An hour earlier than anyone else, sir," I informed shyly.

He only gave a slight glare before he rose from his seat. "I expect every team member to have a copy on the plane in an hour," he told sternly. "JJ, follow me."

He led me out to his office, where everything was organized and appropriate. Pictures of his wife and son sat on his desk, while papers and books were stacked neatly, unlike my own desk.

"JJ, it's been two months since the incident," he sighed, sitting down at his desk. "Though this usually is a long enough time for an agent to heal, I understand that everyone has their own mindset. It may be possible that you need more therapy."

"I already attended therapy here, Hotch," I reminded with a bit of rage in my voice. "There's no need for me to go a second time."

"But, JJ, two weeks might not have been enough-"

"I'm fine, Hotch." It sounded rude, and I felt rude, but I also felt defensive. The therapist didn't know anything that I was feeling. She couldn't. The woman had never gone out on a mission, expecting a routine interrogation, and ending up with an abducted agent. An abducted friend. She couldn't help me a month ago, and she couldn't help me now. Aaron had to understand that.

"Fine, I won't order you any necessary therapy," he stated strictly. "But I don't want your mental state affecting your performance here."

"Alright, sir," I grinned, giving a little bow and working my way to the door.

"Jareau."

My feet stuck to the ground, and I felt frozen again. He hadn't called me Jareau to my face since I first joined his team. The way he said my name made me feel a bit isolated from him and the team. But he was my authority. I turned to him obediently.

"Yes?"

"If any more problems arise with the way you handle this case," he began quietly, "I will have to assign mandatory therapy."

"Yes, sir."

I left the office in a hurry. It felt like Aaron had betrayed me. He had no sympathy for me, though I was sure he would understand the situation I went through.

As my mind continued to analyze Aaron and mildly curse him, I started to copy the case files. Soon enough, I saw many pictures of those dead young women who had been tortured terribly. Usually I was able to stomach the information and pictures a case provided. I had plenty of compassion, of course. But now I could hardly breathe as I stared at their faces. They had been kidnapped and tormented. So had Spence. In a different way, maybe, but he felt helpless, I'm sure. He probably wondered why I wouldn't follow protocol and keep him close to me. His voice was always in my ears. His innocent grimace was continuously in my mind.


	3. An Unhappy Renion

"So, O'Dooley, are you actually from Scotland?"

"Ireland, actually," Spence noted, quickly correcting Derek as I followed Monica and the two of them to the plane. "There is actually a subtle different between the two accents."

"Well, you could say I'm from the Old Country," Monica grinned mysteriously. "Ireland's a great place, though. Tell me, is there a cappuccino machine on the jet?"

"You bet," Derek smiled.

The private government terminal was quiet and nearly desolate. Our behavioral analysis team was the most requested team in the BAU, and we frequented this place.

I silently walked behind Derek, Monica, and Spence, attempting to find their conversation entertaining. But Aaron was still in my mind, and I couldn't help but to feel a contempt for him. I swung my light luggage beside my legs with slight violence, imagining just how ignorant he had been.

"Halloo, there."

Suddenly, I realized an auburn Irishwoman walking beside me. A modest smile was upon her face as she stared at me with bright eyes. Her bliss was hard to escape, and I eventually replied with a grin.

"Hi," I whispered.

"I don't believe I've formally met you," she started, "but I heard the boss call you JJ."

"Yeah," I chuckled. "It has been my nickname since high school. I guess it was easier to say JJ instead of Jennifer."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, JJ," Monica beamed. "Have you been on cases this gruesome?"

"It's been much worse than this," I admitted with a frown. "We've dealt with killers who have mutilated so many bodies. They just don't stop. It can be five people. Ten people. Even twenty people. The sexual assaults are some of the most heart-wrenching."

"When it comes to taking the life of a human being, it's all heart-wrenching," Monica sighed dejectedly.

On the plane, Monica sat next to me on a couch in the far end of the plane. It was right next to the bathroom and the cappuccino machine, but I specifically chose the spot to be as far away from Aaron as possible. I didn't feel comfortable near him. I felt I had to _act_ sane. Of course, I _was_ sane. I was totally fine.

"You seem sort of down," Monica noted after the plane took off and the team discussed the case. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I told casually. "Everything is fine."

"Then why are you wearing two different kinds of shoes?"

I looked down and was shocked to find that I was indeed wearing two different kinds of shoes. They were both high heels with similar shapes, but one was black and one was_ red_! I couldn't believe myself! No time was wasted. I quickly threw off my shoes, opened up my luggage, found the other black shoe, and exchanged it for the dreadful red one.

"Oh, wow, that is embarrassing," I laughed nervously, rearranging my luggage. "I can't believe I walked out of the house like that."

"JJ, if there's something bothering you, you can talk to me," Monica insisted gently.

"Oh, no, I'm alright," I smiled, sitting back down on the couch.

"Really, JJ, if there's anything-"

"I said I'm fine," I glared. Her voice, her attitude, her words. They all reminded me of the therapist Aaron sent me to. I didn't want to listen to all of that again.

Monica looked slightly stunned, but her eyes were calm. She looked down at her lap shyly and twiddled her fingers.

"O'Dooley," Aaron called from the other end of the plane. "I need to talk to you."

"Alright, Agent Hotchner." Monica rose from the couch and gave me one last look. She was compassionate and considerate. But I couldn't stand her for some reason. That bothered me even more than she did.

Even with all of the coffee I had that morning, I was exhausted. Perhaps it was because of all the thinking my mind was doing. But, right now, I was too disappointed in myself to think at all. I just wanted to sleep and let my mind heal. Then, maybe I could think clearly, and Aaron would have no more problems with me.

So I rested my head on a pillow, closed me eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

"Well, I'm sorry, Tess. I wasn't aware that I was being pushy."

When I woke up, I heard an agitated Irish voice coming from the back of the plane. I looked around me. Everyone was asleep except for Derek, who was listening to music in his headphones.

"I think I'm fully capable of handling this assignment. What lesson could I possibly have to learn?"

I turned to face the back of the plane. Monica was leaning against the wall, looking at the opposing wall as if it was another person. Her dark eyes rose and fell as if she was hearing words that affected her mood.

"I know. I know," she sighed, looking down at the ground. Slowly, her eyes rose up to see me, and they widened immediately. She stared at me with a shocked expression on her face for a few seconds.

"Bye, Mom."

Her hand flew up to her ear, and she appeared to swipe something from her ear. I couldn't see her ear, nor could I see her hand, but I saw a nervous smile eroding upon her face.

"Halloo," she whispered awkwardly. She walked over and sat next to me.

"Talking to someone?" I asked curiously, taking a quick glance back at the back of the plane where she came from.

"Just my mother," she replied quickly. "She's still a little scared about me joining this team."

"I didn't know we got cell phone reception while the plane is in the air," I yawned. "Maybe Derek was lying to me."

"I wasn't lying to anyone," Derek suddenly said. His headphones were in his hands, and he looked at Monica and I inquisitively. "I have no idea what you were just talking about, but I'm telling you, I don't lie."

"Sure you don't," I grinned playfully.

"Um, anyways, we're about to land," Monica informed. "I just spoke to the pilot a few minutes ago."

It was early afternoon when the plane landed. There was plenty of time to work as hard as we could. Even when night would come, no one would go to the hotel. After midnight, the FBI field office would still be full of people. We would take shifts to sleep, making sure we could never say that we left our victim alone.

When we reached the field office, we were greeted by an older man who seemed to be in perfect shape. He wore a very clean-cut suit, and his eyes held a great deal of determination. The only thing that tainted his perfect image was his shiny, bald head.

"I'm Agent Cooper," he greeted hastily.

"Agent Hotchner," Aaron replied, shaking Agent Cooper's hand.

The two of them worked like clockwork. They started towards a briefing room with many files and pictures. Aaron didn't even introduce the rest of us. But I understood that Agent Cooper would definitely forget them anyway, and time couldn't be wasted.

"Shelly Morrison was last seen leaving her mother's flower shop Monday afternoon," Agent Cooper explained. "She started to walk home because her car was being repaired. I've made a map of where the flower shop is and her route home."

Spence picked up the map from the table and immediately started studying it.

"I've also marked the places that the other girls may have been abducted," Agent Cooper continued.

"Alright, we have to interview the parents," Aaron insisted. "They know the area where their daughters travel. If the places where they were abducted are highly populated, there could be witnesses. Reid and JJ, go to Carrie Leo's parents. Prentiss and I will head over to interview the Fairwaters. Morgan, you and O'Dooley will go to the Morrison residence to interview Shelly's parents."

"Mrs. Morrison is a widow," Agent Cooper suddenly informed. "And she barely spends any time at home anymore. She stays at the flower shop all day, even if it's closed."

"What's the name of flower shop?" Derek asked.

"Pretty generic. Janet's Flower Shop."

"Oh no."

The color drained from Monica's face as she said those two little words. She looked down at the ground with a grimace. But Aaron seemed not to notice her reaction.

"Alright, let's go."

Reluctantly exiting the field office, I walked beside Reid like a wilting flower. I couldn't stand to look at his face. His eyes always shot guilt right at me. I couldn't escape it. He seemed so calm and relaxed. But he wasn't the one who deserved to be tortured for the rest of his life. I was. And I accepted it.

"Does this place have some significance to you, Monica?"

Derek drove the SUV at a moderate speed, but Monica's whole body was tense. A wild look was in her eyes as she stared out the windshield. In confusion, Derek continued to look at her for some answer.

"Monica, are you with me?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Monica chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I'm with you. I just need to call my mother. Excuse me."

She reached into her jacket for her cell phone. Immediately, she dialed a few more numbers than a home phone would have required and then put the phone to her ear.

"Mom? Is that you?"

"Hey, angel girl."

Tess appeared in the back seat, and Monica looked in the rearview mirror with her eyes begging for peace.

"Mom, I don't think I can make it to dinner next week," Monica said slowly, pronouncing every word carefully. "Won't you let me take a rain check?"

"I'm sorry, Monica," Tess sighed, understanding Monica's words. "You can't get out of this assignment. It's important that you complete it."

"But, Mom…I know my old friend will be there," Monica started shakily. "But she's…changed over the years. I don't know if I'll be able to see her the way she is now."

"Baby, I can promise you that Janet will be hard to watch," Tess frowned. "Her daughter has been _kidnapped_ by a serial killer, and, believe me, that has affected her greatly. But things are going to get harder for her and for you as well."

"I don't know if I can take it," Monica whispered fragilely. "Mom, there must be a way."

"I'm sorry, baby," Tess assured. "But God is with you. He loves you, and He will never leave you. Remember that, angel girl."

"Goodbye, Mom." Monica dropped her phone onto her lap and stared out the window. She appeared incredibly joyless and her eyes did not have the light they usually carried.

"You know, we'll probably be done with this case by next week," Derek suggested, oblivious to the angelic conversation that just occurred in front of him.

"I really don't want to go," Monica told, a forced smile upon her face. "You see, it's my mother. She can't…cook."

With that last word, Monica's voice broke, and her eyes filled up with tears. Derek looked at her anxiously.

"Monica, are you okay?"

"Yes," Monica insisted, closing her eyes quickly. She sat there for a few minutes. Her eyes were closed, her body was motionless. But the tension that she felt was clear from even many miles away. Derek glanced at her constantly as they continued to the flower shop. But Monica stood still, her cheeks red and her body uptight.

They arrived at the flower shop after a few silent minutes. A reluctant Monica followed Derek into the shop. It was dark and appeared deserted. The FBI agent and angel stood there for a moment, observing their surroundings.

"Hello?" Derek called. "Mrs. Morrison, are you here?"

A small, dark-headed woman came in from the back door. Her large brown eyes were filled with sorrow, and her arms weakly carried the vase of dahlias that she held. But she walked fast and diligently to the counter like a dedicated saleswoman.

"I'm sorry," she announced kindly. "We're not open right now."

"Mrs. Morrison, my name is Derek Morgan," Derek informed as he walked up to the counter. "I am an agent for the FBI. And this is Agent Monica O'Dooley."

"Um…halloo."

As soon as Monica spoke, Janet looked up from the dahlias and stared right at her. Janet stayed completely silent as she walked from behind the counter towards Monica. They stood there with Janet focusing directly on Monica's face and Monica avoiding Janet's eyes as much as possible.

"Monica…is that really you?" Janet questioned curiously. "It has to be. But it can't be. You haven't aged a bit. Or…was Chrissy right?"

"Right about what?" Monica asked anxiously.

"I didn't believe her at first, but it has to be true!" Janet exclaimed with a smile. "When she said you were an angel, I didn't believe-"

"Derek, I think she's in shock," Monica suddenly suggested in a loud voice. "Maybe we should come back later."

"Mrs. Morrison, how did you know Agent O'Dooley's name?" Derek asked, ignoring Monica's proposition.

"It's right on my badge, Derek," Monica reminded nervously, pointing to her badge on her blazer.

"Monica, don't you remember me?"

"Derek, I'd better talk to Mrs. Morrison in the back," Monica quickly said, grabbing Janet's arm. "Come on, Mrs. Morrison. Let's talk. Do you have any coffee in the back."

"I do remember you loving your coffee," Janet smiled as they entered the back room.

"Listen, Janet, I'm on an assignment," Monica swiftly explained. "My team can't know that I'm an angel."

"So you are an angel!" Janet grinned. "I knew Chrissy wouldn't lie to me."

Monica gave a small sigh as she compassionately stared at Janet. As the silence went on, she nodded slowly. Janet's eyes quickly filled with a hopeful light.

"Monica, that's wonderful!" Janet exclaimed. "You've come to bring me back my daughter, right?"

A weak grimace stayed on Monica's face. "I'm going to try as hard as I can. My team is really talented. We should work pretty fast."

"But you're an angel, Monica," Janet reminded anxiously. "Why can't you just make Shelly appear right now?"

"It doesn't work like that, Janet," Monica sighed. "I can't just bring her back to you. God hasn't ordered me to do that."

"Well, maybe He did, and you just didn't hear Him," Janet said hopefully.

"Janet, I'm sorry…"

"Why would God send an angel and not bring my daughter back to me?" Janet shouted, angrily stepping away from Monica. "How could He let me suffer this way? How could He let _her_ suffer this way?"

"Janet, please-"

"I've followed Him for all these years, ever since you came for Chrissy," Janet informed, a terrible revulsion in her voice. "My daughter could have been raped ten times already, and you're just standing here with your wings casually flapping around!"

"Wait, Janet, we haven't given you any details of the case yet," Monica interrupted cautiously. "How do you know she could have been raped?"

"Oh, please, Monica," Janet snickered darkly. "This is a small town. Three other girls have been kidnapped, raped, and murdered. I was friends with their parents. All of their parents. Word gets around, Monica. But apparently God can't hear anything!"

"That's not true, Janet!" Monica quickly argued. "God hears everything! He even hears your daughter wherever she is now."

"Well, I hope He hears every scream and cry for help she makes," Janet growled. "I hope he hears whenever she is hurting the most. Whenever that man is…" Janet's eyes filled with tears. "I hope He hears it, because I hear it every night in my dreams!"

"Janet…"

"She could be calling for me right now," Janet sobbed. "I'm all she has, Monica! Can't you see that? Can't God see that?"

A few minutes later, Monica came back into the front room of the flower shop alone. Her shining eyes were filled with dismay as she looked up at Derek.

"Mrs. Morrison won't be talking to us," she sighed softly, continuing to the front door of the shop. She held the door open as Derek took one last look at the back room door.

"What happened, Monica," he asked anxiously once they were in the car.

"She's just very angry," Monica told slowly. "And very confused. I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't listen…"

"Well, hopefully everyone else is having better luck."

My heart was beating unevenly as I drove Reid and I to the Leo residence. I couldn't think completely straight as I mentally cursed Aaron for pairing me up with Reid yet again. This was a simple questioning, sure. But, with me as a partner, there was still a chance Reid could return to the field office with a broken arm and a bleeding head.

"Um, JJ, you just missed that stop sign back there," Reid whispered, glancing at her cautiously.

"Oh, goodness," I sighed. "Sorry. It would probably have been better if you drove."

"I highly doubt that," he grinned humorously. "Anyways, I think it's legal for us to do that. Not particularly safe, but legal."

He defended me. Why would he defend me? He had the right to put me down at any moment.

We parked outside of the white, two-story house, finding the pleasant appearance of the house a bit disturbing. Subtle changes in the neighborhood could be seen, though. The children playing in the front yard of the neighboring house were carefully watched by their parents from the front porch. A young woman pulling up to one of the houses exited her care swiftly and jogged into her house, carefully watching all around her.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Leo," I greeted solemnly upon reaching the front door. Mrs. Leo had the door open even before Reid and I had climbed the porch stairs. "My name is Jennifer Jareau. And this is Spencer Reid. We're from the FBI."

"Come in," Mrs. Leo insisted as her husband joined her at the door.

"Our Carrie was a quiet one," Mr. Leo explained slowly once he had gathered Spence and I into the living room. "She was a an incredible student and kept A's in all her classes in high school."

"She was most interested in microbiology," Mrs. Leo added with a weak grin as she entered the living room with coffee for Spence and I.

"Thank you very much," I whispered, accepting the coffee graciously.

"She could have gone to a university," Mrs. Leo continued. "Some even requested her to join their student body. She could have her pick of any school in any state. Even the best European schools accepted her."

"But she never ended up going," Mr. Leo sighed miserably. "I want to say she had her own reasons, but…"

"Carrie was anemic," Mrs. Leo informed. "When she was a child, we wouldn't let her go anywhere, even with adult supervision. We were just so afraid of an accident. You would think she would have just rebelled against us, but she just became attached to this house. This town."

"She became a librarian at the town library," Mr. Leo told. "She never even traveled outside of Ohio."

"Um, Mr. and Mrs. Leo, we were wondering if you could tell us how she traveled to and from work," I quickly mentioned, unable to stand their growing melancholy. "Or, if there were any places she liked to go to hang out, maybe you could tell us her route there."

"She carpooled to and from work with her friend Amy Watts," Mrs. Leo recounted. "I don't think she traveled anywhere else."

"And Amy picked her up and dropped her off right in front of the house?"

"Yes," Mrs. Leo confirmed.

"Judy, the creek," Mr. Leo suddenly whispered to his wife.

"Oh, yes."

"What creek, Mr. Leo?" Spence asked.

"There was a creek just off into the forest next to Green Street," Mr. Leo said with a slight laugh. "Carrie had to go on a field trip there when she was in tenth grade. It was to collect algae, or something crazy like that. Ever since that day, she's gone there to read or think."

"The day she was taken, she had wanted to walk down there." Mrs. Leo's eyes shone brightly with tears as she spoke. "I must have missed her when she went out the door."

"You say a creek off Green Street?" Spence questioned suddenly.

"Uh, yes," Mr. Leo agreed.

Then the area flashed in my mind. Carrie Leo, found along a creek in a forest next to Green Street. The serene, beautiful place that the Leos were trying to describe was looking more and more grim inside my mind.

"Is something wrong, Agent Reid?" Mrs. Leo asked, looking at Spence intently.

"Oh, well, Mrs. Leo. Mr. Leo." Spence's voice was dry and shaky. "It was along that creek your daughter was found."

The blood rushed from Mr. Leo's face as Mrs. Leo threw her hand over her mouth. I could barely stand to see their pain, and my stomach unsettled itself in my abdomen.

"He couldn't have," Mrs. Leo started frantically. "Why would he do that to my baby?"

"She was murdered at the creek?" Mr. Leo asked coldly.

"That's what the forensic evidence suggests," Spence informed quietly.

"Michael, he killed our baby at the creek," Mrs. Leo cried. "That was her favorite place. The only place she would ever go by herself."

Mr. Leo rose from the couch and held his sobbing wife up with him. "I'm afraid we must ask you to leave," he said with great difficulty. "I…I hope we helped."

"Of course," I replied quickly. "Thank you for your time. We're…sorry for your loss."

Spence and I rushed out of that house faster than ever. Witnessing such sorrow was unbearable, even before Spence's incident. As I tried to erase the vision of Mr. and Mrs. Leo from my mind, I fumbled for the car keys in my pocket. My paralyzed fingers dropped them on the sidewalk and they made a loud clattering.

"Maybe I _should _drive back," Spence suggested innocently as he picked the keys up from the ground.

"Doesn't this affect you?" I asked, my racing mind terribly infuriating. "Doesn't it affect you at all?"

"What do you mean?" he questioned as I leaned against the SUV.

"Don't you get sad?" An unintentional rage was in my voice, but I couldn't stop. "Don't you get frustrated? What about angry? Weren't you ever angry with me?"

"JJ…what are you talking about?"

His childlike eyes finally caught me in my frustration, and I couldn't stay that way. I couldn't help but give him a reassuring smile as I choked down a few guilty tears. Playfully, I snatched the car keys from his hands and remembered how things were before he was taken.

"I may be losing my mind a little bit, but I'm not crazy enough to let _you_ drive yet," I smirked. "Come on, Spence."

As we drove back to the field office, Spence's eyebrows stayed firmly lowered over his eyes. That thoughtfulness he always had was intensified, and, as always, I was curious to know what he was contemplating.

"Spence, what's up?"

"Do you think the unsub intentionally put Carrie's body in her favorite place?" he asked inquisitively.

"How would he know that was her favorite place?" I asked. "This guy is desperate. After one girl, he needs a new one really fast. He wouldn't go into the forest to hunt her down at the creek. He must have kidnapped her as she was walking down Green Street."

"That's right," Spence agreed with a sigh. "But it just doesn't make sense. If he was really desperate, he wouldn't take any time disposing of the bodies. But they are all placed in specific places; some hidden better than others. They aren't close to one another. It's almost like the place he disposes the body matters to him."

"But he's desperate, Spence."

"Maybe it's something he has to do," he suggested strongly. "It's just one last part of his MO. He just can't get complete satisfaction until he…"

"Spence, don't jump to conclusions," I chuckled lightly. "The other places may mean nothing to the rest of the victims."

"It just doesn't make sense…"

We arrived at the field office where we found Derek and Monica. Derek was examining some maps on the information board, while Monica was sitting at the table with a frustrated expression on her face, looking at a picture of Shelly Morrison.

"How did you guys do?" Derek asked curiously.

"We found out where Carrie Leo must have been taken," I informed sadly. "But I bet you guys had more luck than we did."

"I doubt that," Derek sighed. "Janet Morrison wouldn't even talk to us. She was still in shock. Monica tried to talk to her, but the woman just wouldn't budge."

"Morgan, you know the place where Carrie Leo was found?" Spence started. "Well, it turns out that was her favorite place to spend time."

"That must just be a coincidence, though," Derek insisted. "I mean, what about the locations the other girls where found?"

"You see, that's my point."

As Spence went on with his theory to Derek, I sat next to Monica, observing her sad face. She slowly caressed the picture, giving compassionate strokes over Shelly's eyes. The empathy that shone from her face was almost overwhelming.

"Monica, are you okay?" I finally asked.

"I just…she's so young," Monica whispered shakily. "Only twenty-three. She doesn't deserve this."

"No one deserves this," I agreed with a sigh. "These are monsters that we're dealing with."

"Who called for Chinese?"

A happy, enthusiastic voice called from the doorway of the room. Standing before us, carrying two full plastic bags, was a smiling old woman. She had ebony skin and snowy hair. Her eyes were her best feature. They just illuminated the dark room with love and delight.

"Tess," Monica said under her breath.

"I don't think we ordered any Chinese food," Derek insisted inquiringly. "You must have the wrong room."

"Oh, baby, I have the right room," the woman chuckled. "At The Chinese Cherub, we make no mistakes."

"It was me, guys," Monica suddenly announced, rising from her seat and taking the bags from the woman. "I thought you all might be hungry after such a long flight. And we've had no breaks since we arrived."

"Well, thanks," Derek smiled. "You have to let us pitch in."

"Oh, never," Monica grinned, placing the bags on the table. "I ordered it. I'll pay for it. In the hall, that is."

Monica led the woman out of the room as Derek and Spence started digging into the food. But I could hardly focus on the food. There was something strange about Monica and this Chinese Cherub woman.

"Tess, I'm so glad you're here," Monica said fervently. "This is been a terrible experience, you know."

"I know it's hard, baby," Tess sighed. "But you've got to complete this assignment."

"I can't take this, Tess," Monica cried, her voice trembling. "It is too much to bear."

"Miss Wings, Jesus will carry your burdens," Tess told gently. "Just give them to Him and then focus on your task."

"But my burden _is_ my task!" Monica grumbled angrily.

"Your task is not your burden, angel girl," Tess informed with fervor. "Your burden is your lack of faith. Do you think God would really give you this assignment without having prepared you for it? You have all the love and compassion that you need, baby."

Monica gritted her teeth and tears started to fill her eyes. "But, Tess, you should have seen her face."

Tess lovingly wrapped her arms around Monica and held the heartbroken angel close. Soft, childlike sobs came from Monica, and Tess shushed her gently.

"Janet was so miserable," Monica sniffled. "She wouldn't even let me speak of God's love. She blames Him for all of this. And, Tess, she made me feel…abandoned."

"Oh, angel girl, God hasn't abandoned you nor Janet."

"But what about Shelly?" Monica cried. "He would have to have abandoned her for this to happen. How could God let her be taken? She could have been raped over and over by this time."

"Monica, I'm surprised at you," Tess exclaimed. "After all of your experience as a case worker, you still think God made this happen? Baby, men are evil. God is good. He works to save His dying people."

"Why won't he save Shelly, then?"

"Why do you think we're here?"

Monica gave a contemplative look at Tess before pulling away and wiping a few tears from her eyes. The usual happiness she carried was distorted under her anger and confusion.

"Then let me save her. I'll save her right now. Tell me where she was taken. I will go and get her."

"Baby, God puts us through only what we can withstand," Tess assured tenderly. "That goes for you, and Shelly as well. An angel is ministering to her even as we speak now! Doesn't God have a purpose for us? Doesn't he have a plan?"

A look of shame came upon Monica's face as she examined Tess' convicting expression. The auburn angel placed her hands over her face and let out a few more tears. Tess again put her arms around her and whispered comforting Scripture. Two angels stood in the hallway, blanketed by a moment of peace gifted by the Father. One may think that angels do not require comfort. But this one Irish angel needed the love of a Savior and the hand of a Friend.


	4. Becoming the Victim

An hour later, everyone was back in the conference room of the field office. Mystery and frustration filled the room as Aaron discussed a profile with the whole team.

"Something traumatic must have set him off," Aaron suggested. "Garcia can't find any more kidnappings like this in the few months before Melissa Mathers turned up missing."

"I really wish I could help," a voice said from Aaron's cell phone in the center of the table. "But you guys aren't giving me a lot here."

"This should be easy," Derek sighed. "This town is hardly big enough to be a dot on a map.

"Garcia, check for any violent deaths that occurred in the month before Melissa Mathers went missing," Aaron ordered.

"Nothing," Penelope concluded after a few seconds. Not even a regular death. People live long in these small towns."

"What if the unsub just moved into town?" Spence questioned. "Maybe he started his pattern in a different city, but then moved here."

"He would get away with this sort of thing in a big city," Emily informed quickly. "Why would he move?"

"Maybe this town means something to him," Aaron insisted. "Garcia, check for anyone who moved into town in the-"

"Month before Melissa Mathers went missing, I know," Garcia sighed. "You're not going to like this. They just opened up a few new townhouses in the better part of town. A lot of new people poured in to occupy those townhouses."

"Perfect timing," Derek growled.

"He couldn't get away with this in a townhouse," Aaron told confidently. "Check for anyone who moved into a house."

"There were two houses both within the month before Melissa Mather's disappearance," Penelope said swiftly. "A young couple with a beautiful new baby boy, and…a dear old woman in her eighties."

"He's got to be in the townhouses, Hotch," Derek insisted.

"I know," Aaron replied angrily. "Maybe he owns property where he keeps the girls. Garcia, look for-"

"There have been no property sales as of late," Penelope interrupted. "No shed, no field. Just residences. If it would help, the last property sale was a ten acre sale from a Mr. John Thompson to a Mr. and Mrs. Carl Hampton."

"That doesn't help at all, actually, Garcia," Spence told plainly. "But thanks for trying."

"Your sarcasm really hurts, Reid," Penelope joked with convincing angst.

"What sarcasm?" he asked innocently.

"Look, JJ, Prentiss, O'Dooley," Aaron suddenly interrupted. "Why don't you interview a few people at the townhouses. I'm still not completely confident that the killer doesn't live there. Morgan and I will interview a few of the parents again. Reid, you stay here and work on the profile. Ask Garcia questions. Anything."

Emily was quick to lead Monica and I out of the field office. We climbed into a black government SUV and took off down the road to the richer part of town where the townhouses were. I voluntarily let Monica take the passenger seat next to Emily. Sitting in the back of the car felt a little less stressful. It felt safer.

"Where in the world could this dirt bag be?" Emily asked angrily as she reluctantly stopped at a red light. "This is such a small town, but we just can't find him."

"I'm sure we'll get him," Monica sighed. "We have to."

Suddenly, my phone rang, and I anxiously answered it. "Yes, Spence?"

"Hey, JJ, I was looking at the background of the victims," Spence told excitedly. "It turns out Melissa Mathers' twin sister Aubrey died just before the murders started taking place. She died of a really bad asthma attack, but, listen to this. There was evidence of sexual assault on her body."

"Does this have anything to do with the other victims," I asked eagerly.

"Aubrey lived in Minnesota with her husband Mark Richmond," Spence continued. "If Mark was the one to abuse her while they were married, he could very well be our unsub."

"But he's in Minnesota, Spence."

"No, he's not," Spence corrected. "He lives in the townhouses."

"What?" I exclaimed. "But, Spence, why would he want to kidnap and rape more people."

"It could be that he has a psychological disorder that caused him to become attached to Aubrey," Spence exclaimed. "Sure, he abused her, but, what I'm trying to say is that he needed her to satisfy him. He then moved to Ohio not to escape police, but to get the next best thing, Melissa. He kept her like another wife to abuse. But he got nervous because of the police and the search. He needed to get rid of her. But he took her to her favorite place to make the killing especially satisfying for him so he can go a little bit without another girl."

"And Carrie Leo looks like Melissa Mathers," I stated slowly. "Spence, text me which townhouse he's in. We'll get him."

"I'll call Hotch, too."

"Alright. Bye."

"What's up, Jayje?" Emily asked.

"Reid might have just figured everything out," I informed rapidly. "Quick, we have to get to the townhouses now. Our unsub lives there."

"Really?" Emily exclaimed. "It's time for the lights."

Emily turned on the siren and the blinking lights. We were driving quickly past houses, farms, and shops, anxiously waiting to save Shelly Morrison. Her face was scarred into my mind. But soon enough, all my thoughts were interrupted by my ringing phone.

"Hotch?"

"Hey, JJ."

"Jayje, put it on speaker phone, please," Emily pleaded tensely. "I don't want messages to be relayed to me."

"Hotch, we're on our way to the townhouses to apprehend Mark Richmond," I told as I put my phone on speaker.

"There's been a problem," Aaron sighed. "Right after Reid called me, there was a press leak. The name of Mark Richmond has been flashed across every new channel in this town."

"How could that have happened?" Emily questioned furiously.

"It doesn't matter how it happened," Aaron interrupted. "What matters is that, according to the profile Reid gave me, the unsub will now be scared. He's going to have to get rid of Shelly Morrison quickly."

"But he needs to get rid of her at her favorite place," I said, the morbid words difficult to get out.

"Is it possible for you three to learn that?"

"Yes," Monica suddenly exclaimed. "I can find out. Let me get Mrs. Morrison's number from Garcia."

"Alright, O'Dooley," Aaron agreed. "When you find out, let me know, and then head over there yourself. If you get there before Morgan and I, JJ, I need you and Prentiss to apprehend the unsub."

Aaron's words sent me into a trance. I stared out the car window and saw the evening dark across the farm country. It looked familiar. Eerily familiar. My hands started to shake as Spence's face came into my mind.

"Hotch, I…I can't do that," I whispered, attempting to sound strong.

"What do you mean you can't do that?" he replied angrily. "JJ, you and Prentiss have to apprehend this unsub."

"Hotch, I can't go with Emily," I assured shakily. "I can't go with anyone. It's not safe."

"JJ, listen to me-"

"Hotch, I can't do it!" I shouted as tears came to my eyes. Anger filled my whole body, and I despised my cowardice.

"Hotch, I can go with Prentiss," Monica quickly told. "I'll do it."

"Alright, O'Dooley," Aaron sighed. "Quickly."

The line went dead, and I laid my head against my seatbelt and cried. I could feel Monica's soft, compassionate eyes drilling into me, but I couldn't stand to look at her or confront her. Spence was still fresh in my mind. I couldn't put Emily in danger by accompanying her on this mission.

"Monica, Shelly's favorite place?" Emily interrupted.

"Oh, yes," Monica replied. She took her phone out of her pocket and chose a contact. "Garcia?"

"What can I do for you, Miss O'Dooley?" Penelope asked eagerly.

"I need Janet Morrison's cell phone number."

"It's just at the end of the rainbow, my Irishwoman," Penelope guaranteed swiftly. "Yes, here it is. 555-0954."

"Thank you, Penelope," Monica said softly. "Goodbye."

Without missing a beat, Monica hung up her phone, dialed in Janet's number, and placed it to her ear. I couldn't help but notice how passionate she was with her movement.

"Hello, Janet?" Monica rang out. "It's Monica. No, please, Janet, don't hang up. This is urgent. Please talk to me. I need to know where Shelly's favorite place in town is."

There was a long pause in which Monica patiently held her phone to her ear. A bit of whimpering could be heard from the phone, and I held my breath just to hear what Janet was saying.

"Janet, this could help us rescue your daughter," Monica promised. "Please."

"She spent time at the abandoned Thompson ranch on Gold Street," Janet said over the phone.

"The old Thompson ranch on Gold Street," Monica relayed, sending Emily into a frenzy of setting the GPS directions on the dashboard.

"Monica, is this for real?" Janet asked, her scared voice barely audible from where I was.

"Yes it is, Janet," Monica smiled brokenly. "I think we'll find her."

"If you were really an angel, you would have found her by now," Janet replied.

"Janet, I am an…You have to trust me," Monica told.

"I need her, Monica," Janet cried. "I really do."

"We'll get her, Janet," Monica pledged. "I have to go, Janet. We'll get her."

My mind tried to grasp the whole conversation between Monica and Janet, but something wasn't right. What was this angel business? A figure of speech? It must have been. But it didn't matter to me after a few minutes when we reached the Thompson ranch. We all hopped out of the car and drew our guns. Monica gave me one last look of consideration before she stepped out into the dark, grassy field.

Monica had never felt so scared in her life. As she and Emily pushed their way through the tall, yellow grass, she felt God clinging onto her heart. But she still felt that it was very vulnerable to bullets, knives, and any other weapons a coldhearted murderer would have.

Emily stayed quiet, stepping ahead of Monica bravely. Her gun was firmly in front of her, ready to scare any person who dared threaten her. But through the grass, it wasn't likely that she would see that threatening person.

"Shh!" Emily grabbed Monica's arm and pulled her deeper into the grass. Monica's eyes fell wide open as she anxiously stared at Emily's dedicated face. They both stooped low in the brush, listening and waiting.

"Shut up, Shelly!" A stern, horrifying voice could be heard a few hundred feet away. "This is no time for church talk."

"Lord, please save me." The voice of a scared, tortured girl now came from the same place. Her steady crying sent chills down Monica's spine, and her gun felt so heavy in her hand.

"Get that gun up, O'Dooley," Emily ordered strictly. "Follow me."

They quietly, yet quickly, parted their way through the grass, encountering the thickest, most confining brush. But Emily was a critical guide who encouraged Monica greatly. With great dedication, they followed the voices from the appalling scene they anticipated.

Finally, they pushed right out the grass into a very small, marshy area. The oval area only big enough to be a large living room seemed pleasant and peaceful. But the night sky created horrendous shadows on the ground. And two shadows across the marsh turned out to be Shelly Morrison and the unsub.

Monica dropped her gun again. The scene was just so terrifying. Mark Richmond held onto Shelly's long, black hair with his right hand while he wielded a gleaming, small knife in his left. Both Shelly and Mark stared at Emily and Monica with surprised faces.

"Let her go!" Emily shouted, pointing her gun right at the unsub. "Drop that knife, Mark Richmond!"

Suddenly, the unsub pushed Shelly into the ground and took off into the grass. In an act of pure compassion, Monica rushed over to Shelly and wrapped her arms around her. Emily followed, but kept her furious eyes on the grass into where Mark fled.

"O'Dooley, I'm going after him," Emily informed quickly.

"Alright," Monica replied nervously, the great pressure and anxiety pushing her voice into the highest of octaves.

As Emily pushed her way through the brush, Monica held onto Shelly tight. The crying girl only let herself be cradled by the loving angel. Sheer chaos was felt with a mess of perfect joy.

"Shelly, my name is Monica," the angel whispered. "I'm with the FBI. We've got you, Shelly. We've got you."

Before any more reassuring words could be given, a gunshot rang out. Monica leapt to her feet as she laid Shelly onto the marshy ground. Another shot shattered the night sky. And then another. Monica felt her racing heart explode with each shot. But human adrenaline kept her from fainting, and she ran into the grass.

"Emily!" she screamed. "Emily!"

She made it out of the grassy landscape, only to find a pick-up truck rumbling as it started up. The red brake up lights appeared as the very eyes of Satan as she watched the truck drive off into the night. Her angel feet carried her into a wild race, following the speeding automobile. She prayed to God that her spiritual wings would push her along the sky to catch up with the truck. But nothing happened. She only felt a guilt, an anger, a madness as she watched the unsub zoom away with Emily Prentiss.

"Monica?"

The defeated angel turned around and saw Shelly Morrison poking her head out of the tall grass. She ran to the poor girl and hugged her as if she might make her feel better. But Emily was all Monica could think about. She couldn't even think of Shelly's pain, the same pain that had been bothering her this whole day. Now there was only Emily's fate in her mind. What had God planned? Her rescue? Her torture? Her death?

Tears started to pour from Monica's eyes as her heart became overwhelmed with confusion.


	5. Redemption

"Does Emily even fit his profile?"

"She's a bit older, but…yes. Yes she does."

"My God, we have to find Emily!"

Mad, livid voices flew about the conference room. Aaron, Morgan, and Reid sat at one end of the table angrily discussing the unsub's personality. Monica, Shelly, and I sat at the other end, still in a terrible shock.

When Monica and Shelly returned to the SUV without Emily, I felt my heart stop. Monica's obvious distress did not help with my wild imagination. I pictured the unsub ruthlessly throwing Emily into his truck and driving away with her as he planned every bit of torture he would do to her.

Now the guilt was just setting in. If I had gone with Emily, I would have told her to stay with Shelly and I. It wasn't protocol to go off on your own. Everyone knew that. As least, I thought I did once…

"JJ, O'Dooley," Aaron called, walking over to our end of the table. "Go to the Holiday Inn and settle in for the night. I don't want you on this case any longer."

"Hotch, don't you think we should help?"

"Jareau, take O'Dooley to the inn and stay there."

He was calling me Jareau again. He was angry.

There was no time to waste. I grabbed the petrified Monica and dragged her out of the field office. She awkwardly climbed into the passenger seat of an SUV and robotically put on her seat belt.

"This isn't your fault," I assured as we drove to the inn. "You have to believe me, Monica."

"Then whose fault is it?" she questioned, her Irish voice breaking comically. "I shouldn't have let her go."

"Hotch ordered me on that mission," I reminded. "I was supposed to go."

"But _I _was the one who went!" she continued shakily. "It's my fault."

"No, it's my fault!" I exclaimed miserably. "Monica…it's my fault."

"How can it be your fault?" she asked. "You were back at the SUV."

"But I was supposed to be there," I started heatedly. "I should have stopped her. I should have stopped _him._ He didn't have to go. Gosh, he was so stupid! Going off alone? It's not protocol. Oh, Spence, I'm sorry…"

I knew I had exposed part of my soul to Monica. The fact frightened me a bit, but it made her quiet. I didn't want to hear her nonexistent guilt. It was my fault. It's always my fault.

We arrived at the Holiday Inn and checked in to a room Aaron had called ahead for. Spence's face had been in my mind along with Emily's, and I felt the tears coming. I rushed into the bathroom before Monica could see me break down.

"I should have just followed Hotch's orders," I whispered angrily. "God, how could I have been so stupid?"

"I don't think God would particularly agree that you were stupid."

A plainly Irish voice filled the bathroom. I knew it was Monica's, but it sounded different. The way it sounded gave me chills and made me terrified. But that wasn't the only thing that caught me off guard. The small room filled with a dazzling light that was warm and comforting. I could almost taste a delicious snicker doodle cookie on the tip of my tongue.

I noticed a tender Irish grin in the mirror in front of me, and I quickly turned around to see Monica standing before me. She was wearing a long, white dress with beautiful lace on the sleeves. Her milky skin was so pale and electrifying, and her dark eyes were as deep as the longest horizon.

"Monica?" My voice was only a tepid breath. "What…how?"

"Do not be afraid, Jennifer," she smiled. "I am an angel."

Her words seemed highly plausible, though they made me want to laugh out loud. The scene she poured before me seemed to prove her words, but doubt still lingered in the smallest piece of my mind.

"You can't be."

"I am," she replied warmly.

Her powerful smile alone proved to my tiny doubt.

"What do you want with me?"

"It is not what I want with you," she started gently. "It is rather what God wants with you."

Spence's face flashed in my mind again. And Emily with an agonizing expression superimposed it. This all made sense now. Monica was here to kill me. I had caused so much pain in peoples' lives that it was my time to be removed from earth.

"I don't want to die." The words came so freely from my mouth. "I know I deserve to, but I don't want to. Please, give me one last chance."

"Oh, JJ, I'm not here to take your life," Monica promised encouragingly. "And I'm not here to punish you. I think you do enough of that yourself."

"What?"

"And wrongfully so, too," she continued. "JJ, you keep tormenting yourself over what happened to Spencer. But it isn't your fault. He made the decision to go back behind the barn and follow Tobias Hankel. It was his own decision that got him kidnapped."

"But I could have stopped him," I told bitterly. "I _should _have stopped him. He was tortured so bad!"

"And that isn't your fault," Monica promised. A small expression of disappointment came over her face. "I realize now that it wasn't my fault that Emily was taken. I felt all the guilt. I felt all the pain. But I needed to feel it to feel what you felt."

"What do you mean?"

"I needed to feel it so I could tell you this," she smirked. "God loves you. He wants to take care of you and take away your guilt. It is not a pain He wishes for you to feel. Please, surrender to Him and let Him help you."

The light, warmth, and conviction sent me over the edge. I could feel the tears gush out of me like waterfalls. My heart was beating so fast as I stared into Monica's caring eyes, and I suddenly understood all that she was saying. I felt God's hand pulling me, and I fell down to the ground, I felt as if He was taking me away right then and there, but Monica tilted her head and gave me a small smirk. Just as the pulling was becoming painful, I cried out and let go of my guilt. I let go of every bitter feeling I had of myself, Tobias Hankel, and God himself. Love poured into my soul, and I looked up to see Monica shedding tears with me. She pulled me up and embraced me as the light faded from the room and the warmth dissipated from the air. But I still felt it all inside of me. God's love with inside of me, and that was all I could feel.


	6. Courage

I sat on the hotel bed, still in shock from what I had just seen and felt. Monica was pacing back and forth in front of me while wearing her gorgeous white dress. Her supernatural light was gone, but she still shone with a certain fascination that I couldn't get enough of.

"Monica, are you worried about something?" I asked, observing the angel's intense expression.

"I guess I'm a bit anxious about Emily," she sighed, sitting beside me on the bed. "There's nothing to worry about, though. I know God will take care of her. Yes, God will take care of her. He will."

"Room service."

A calm, smiling voice came from the door. Monica was quick to open it, and I could sense she was still a bit nervous. It was amusing to see this angel in deep despair while I felt completely safe and assured.

"Andrew?"

I rose from the bed and walked to the door to see our visitor more clearly. He was a relatively tall man with golden hair and small blue eyes. Everything in his face was gentle and charming. But as Monica stared at the man, her eyes grew wider and more uneasy.

"Andrew, what are you doing here?"

"I was sent on business," he told grimly as his kind eyes darkened.

"Business?" Monica exclaimed.

"It's not official yet," he sighed. "But…I'm here."

"Why do you always have to make things difficult, Andrew?" Monica frowned, closing the door in his face.

The angry angel moved across the room and plopped down on the bed. She looked down at the floor, twiddling her fingers ferociously.

"Monica, who was that?" I questioned, looking back at the door curiously.

"He's Andrew. Another angel," she informed, her expression suddenly defensive. She looked at me nervously and rose from the bed.

"Another one?" I asked. "Wow, this is my day, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid not," Monica replied quickly.

"What do you mean?"

She stared at me with wide eyes. Her mouth hung open and her whole body froze. I suddenly knew that something wasn't right. If an angel was this worried, something was terrible wrong.

"JJ, Andrew is the Angel of Death," Monica told me slowly.  
"Angel of Death?" My mind went wild, and it broke through the calm, peaceful mindset Monica had given me. "Why does he need to be here?"

"Is appears that Emily is in some trouble," Monica started helplessly. "I-I didn't think this would happen."

My feet swiftly took me to the hotel window. I needed air. All of this supernatural stuff, all of this future-knowing was too much for me. Violently, I flung open the window and inhaled the deepest breath I could. I felt Monica's compassionate, anxious eyes on the back of my head.

"Monica, we have to do something," I insisted fervently. "We have to save Emily."

"God hasn't commanded me to do that," Monica cried. "He only told me to help you overcome your guilt."

"Well, I think God would want to save Emily," I growled furiously, grabbing my cell phone from the bed. "We're saving her."

"JJ, don't do this," Monica pleaded, running after me as I made my way to the door. "Let's just wait."

"I'm not letting someone else suffer!"

When I opened the door, I was surprised to see the deliverer from the Chinese Cherub in front of me. She was carrying a couple bags full of Chinese food, and she looked terribly surprised at my most uncommon exclamation.

"I-I'm sorry," I began, looking down innocently. "I didn't know you were standing there."

"Tess?" Monica questioned, looking at the deliverer curiously.

"That's my name, yes," the deliverer started. "You know, what you just said makes me think of this horror film I once saw. And that reminds me a shack I passed by on the way here. Yes, there was a shack at the edge of the old Williams farm. It's been deserted, but I could have sworn I heard voices." She looked at me with a very investigative expression. "I wanted to check it out, but I figured that was something for the FBI to investigate…"

After a few seconds of awkward staring, the woman named Tess started wandering down the hall with Chinese food in hand. Her words fermented in my mind, and a pure dedication rose in me. I looked at Monica quickly and then rushed down the hall to the stairs. As Monica followed behind me, I could hear Tess humming the sweet, redeeming melody of "Amazing Grace."

Driving in the car with Monica in the passenger seat was stranger than I had anticipated. I began to wonder if all I had just seen was just an illusion. Something inside me wanted to ask why she couldn't just warp us to where Emily was. I wondered if Emily would be alive when we reached the William's shack. Would God let her suffer? It didn't seem fair. It couldn't be fair.

"Do you have your gun?" I asked Monica, protocol violently racing through my mind.

"Um, it's back at the hotel," Monica told anxiously.

"Can't you get it to teleport here, or something?" I questioned angrily. "Can't you do _that_, at least?"

"It's much more complicated than that," Monica sighed. I suddenly noticed she was back to wearing her FBI outfit and vest. "I'm a little confused right now."

"Monica, just focus on what is right! We don't have time to figure out if saving Emily is the right thing or not! Of course it's the right thing!"

"Listen here, JJ." Never had I heard Monica's voice so loud and fuming. Nervously, I turned to see her wide eyes crossly staring me down. "I've done nothing at all if you haven't learned to trust in God. Maybe that's what this whole thing is about. You humans trust in yourselves way too much, failing yourselves, knowing you're sinful people, but only mourning it! It's not enough to simply turn away from yourself. You have to turn to something_._ _Someone_! I'm an angel, and my faith is faltering. It's a lesson for the both of us. Whatever God does is righteous and perfect! Let's just trust Him finally!"

Something inside of me desperately wanted to argue with her. I wanted to point out all the times people had died unjustly, or how many people were hurting, though undeservingly. But my mouth would not open. A deeper part of my heart considered the greatness of God that Monica had just described. There were so many stories I had learned of God and all his power. And how could I not believe in Him when His own angel visited me in a flurry of majestic light?

"Call Hotch," I said quietly, handing her my phone. "I figure you left your phone at the hotel too."

"Oh!" Monica gave a long sigh, and then started to search her pockets. As her hand reached her right hip, a large smile suddenly lit up her face. "I don't know where my cell phone is. But I know where my gun is."

I watched in amazement as she took her gun out of her holster and showed it to me. Though the situation was grave, though I wasn't sure if one of my friends was alive at this very moment, a smile eroded onto my face. We both started to laugh, but I quickly had to stop, realizing I was on the verge of tears. This whole situation was too incredible to be real, yet I was living right in the center of it.

"It's so dark tonight," I whispered to myself. "I can't see anything."

"Watch out!"

Heeding to Monica's warning, I quickly braked. Slightly serving to the right, I barely missed hitting a large lamb in the middle of the road. As it stood there staring at me with the strangest, most enduring eyes, I was becoming impatient.

"Hey, move!" I yelled loudly. "We don't have time for this!"

"JJ." Monica's voice was more than attention-grabbing. Even in my panicked state, I quickly looked over to figure out why she could sound so grave.

"What is it, Monica?" I asked frantically.

An unexpected smile came upon her face. "The shack!"

I realized where her gaze had fallen. Just outside the car was an old shack with an ancient sign reading: "Property of the Williams Residence."

Without a second's waste, I leapt out of the car, drew my gun, and headed towards the shack. Behind me, I could hear Monica's door open and close quietly. Her footsteps were a little too loud for my taste, but I didn't intend to make an ultimately stealthy takeover of this shack. Protocol was my top priority a few seconds ago. But now, I simply gave Monica a swift glance as we stopped at the door, and then kicked the flimsy wooden thing over.

"Mark Richmond!" I screamed ferociously. "Put down that knife!"

I had given this order even before I had actually seen him. But then I realized that he was directly in front of me. His knife was brandished in front of my face. For a split second, he appeared completely afraid. But now, he was looking at me with such a horrible evil I could not comprehend. So many times before, I had seen evil people in pictures, in handcuffs, or even holding up someone they've kidnapped. But he was looking at _me. _He wanted to kill _me._

A mental breakdown was just before me. At this very moment, I could fall down onto the ground, break into tears, and put both Monica and Emily in danger. But something was inside of me. Something incredible. Justice was not about me. It was never about me. It was about humbling myself to a point where I could catch the bad guy in any circumstance. Humbling myself even to the point of death. Becoming brave enough to serve for Someone who cared enough to chose me. I was chosen. Perhaps simply for this one moment in history, I was chosen by God to catch a horrible man. Now was my time to focus on His will and His call.

Two shots rang out. My hands were numb, but I knew I had pulled the trigger. Mark Richmond looked at me with such shock and fear, but all I could see at the moment was a terrible monster at my feet. His beady eyes didn't close as his knife dropped out of his hand, but I could feel it as that black soul of his seeped out of his body. For a long moment, I examined him, wondering just how despicable this world could be. And, suddenly, I felt the great honor that came alone with taking down the dirtiest scum that this place could offer.

"Emily!" Monica rushed over to Emily, who was gagged and bound on the floor towards the back of the shack. Her eyes were wide and horrified as I followed Monica to aid her.

"Are you alright?" I asked firmly.

"Yes," Emily assured gladly as Monica untied her gag and binds. "He didn't do anything to me. He just dragged me here and started to pace back and forth nervously."

Interrupting her gallant explanation of her circumstances, I pulled her into a tight hug, rejoicing in a beautiful end to this hideous story. Leading both Emily and Monica out of that shack, I felt the freshest ambiance of joy and peace. I took both of their hands, wishing to never let either of them go again. With an angel to my right, and an incredibly traumatized FBI agent to my left, I thanked God for His amazing grace and perfect timing.


	7. Healing

Everyone was rushing around the hospital. Monica and I sat in a busy, boisterous waiting room. But there was peace. Everything was still and calm in my mind. Monica kept giving me the most radiant smile I had ever seen, and I couldn't help but smile back. We hugged one more time before Andrew walked into the room and sat beside Monica.

"Hi there," he grinned quietly.

"Andrew," Monica smiled happily. "You weren't here for Shelly! You were here for the unsub!"

"Sometimes we have a bit of dirty work to do," he laughed grimly. "I'm just glad she's okay."

"Hey, guys." An exhausted Emily Prentiss entered the waiting room, and Monica and I leapt up to hug her.

"I'm so glad you're okay," I told blissfully.

"They actually wanted me to take a rape kit," she sighed sullenly. "That's just so…intense."

"Excuse me." A young nurse walked into the waiting room and looked at the four of us. Her expression was pained and nervous, but she seemed stable. "Is there a Monica here? Shelly Morrison is asking for someone named Monica."

"I'm Monica," the angel called out quickly. "Does she need me?"

"She's calling for you, yes," the nurse informed. "Please, follow me."

Anxiously, Monica followed the nurse to Shelly's room. Her compassion had been haunting her every waking hour ever since she had learned of her kidnapping. When she found out this was indeed Janet Wood's daughter, she wanted to run away. And now, she wondered exactly how Shelly was. She had seen it all before. After even less horrible things, people were quick to blame God. As she made it to the doorway, she figured that she was in for a terrible experience of having to tell of God's love to someone who doesn't want to accept it. Already, she was diligently praying for comfort after the madness was over.

She peeked into the room shyly. Shelly was lying in the hospital bed with a bruised eye and a cut lip. Her hair was tied up in a sloppy ponytail, and her eyes were distant and glassy, but she showed immediate cheer when Monica entered the room.

"Monica," she called sweetly. "Please, come in."

"Hi, Shelly," Monica grinned weakly. She meekly approached the hospital bed. "How are you?"

"Happy," Shelly replied calmly. "I'm safe now."

"Yes, you are," Monica assured joyfully. "Shelly, is your mother here?"

"I finally convinced her to leave for a bit and talk to the doctors," Shelly chuckled quietly. "She just left the room a few minutes ago, but I bet she'll be back very soon."

"I know she must be happy to have you back."

"She cried for a long time," Shelly said solemnly. "It seemed like…she would have gone crazy if I were gone one more day."

Silently Monica pondered Shelly's words. Surely it appeared that Janet was on her last nerve. An extraordinary gratefulness filled Monica's heart as she realized just how happy this ending was. But her eyes fell upon Shelly again, and true joy seemed just out of reach.

"It was horrible," Shelly whispered shakily. "I won't lie. _I _would have gone crazy if he had me for one more day. It was…a helpless feeling, you know? Nothing was in my control. I had seen the news from days before. I knew I looked like those girls. I knew…that I would probably die. But someone stayed with me…someone kept talking to me."

"What?" Monica asked interestedly. "Who?"

"He said his name was Andrew," Shelly smiled. Monica's eyes lit up as she heard the name. "I have no idea where he came from. All of the sudden, a tall man with some unexpectedly voluminous blond hair was standing in the room that man locked me in. He said a lot of things. A lot of wonderful, inspiring things that kept me alive. But what he said the most was, 'God loves you. He is in control. Trust in Him.'"

Tears started to fill Monica's eyes as the fear and anxiety dissipated from her mind. She stared into Shelly's eyes and saw a beautiful joy that conquered all adversity.

"I think I know who he was," Shelly smirked. "And I think I know who _you_ are. My mom always talked about this woman named Monica. She had helped save Aunt Chrissy's life, and she had a very charming Irish accent."

Shelly gave an innocent, winking smile towards Monica. "She also said that Monica was supposed to be an angel, according to Aunt Chrissy. I had always believed in angels ever since that story. And as soon as you rescued me in that corn field…I knew it was you."

"Oh, Shelly," Monica cried tearfully. "I'm so sorry that this had to be you! I know that you didn't deserve this. And I can't understand why you had to go through it!"

"We can never understand what God does," Shelly informed as she took Monica's trembling hand. "Humans can't look ahead to what great things will come out of our trials. And…apparently angels have that problem to."

"I couldn't stand to think that you, Janet's little girl, were being…that you were…"

"Raped." Shelly's eyes were piercing and filled with power. "I know. Not just once, either. I was ashamed at first. I thought I was worthless. But those words are still ringing in my ears: 'God loves you.' Now I've realized that the only thing we can rely on is God's love. This world is horrible. It is painful. And if we don't accept God's love, then that is all we have."

Monica couldn't understand how wise and calm Shelly was about the situation. It all seemed so despicable in her eyes. But something in Shelly's face showed her something. Through every awful trial, there is hope. The Heavenly Father is always in control, and gives us only what we can handle.

"Shelly." Both Monica and Shelly looked to the doorway. An exultant Janet stood before them, a beautiful smile on her face. She quickly rushed to Shelly's side and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Mom, you were gone for five minutes," Shelly laughed cheerfully.

"Those five minutes were much too long," Janet assured sternly. "Just like these past three days."

"Did you see that Monica was here?" Shelly asked innocently.

With sad eyes, Janet looked over at Monica. She appeared remorseful, yet extremely grateful at the same time. Monica, confused at how to approach this situation, stood silently, observing the mother and daughter carefully.

"Monica," Janet called shyly. "I'm so sorry about how I acted towards you."

"Janet, I think you had every right to be angry," Monica told gravely.

"But not at God," Janet assured. "Shelly told me about her whole experience. God was watching over her. He sent an angel to minister to her while she was taken, and he sent another one to rescue her from captivity. I had every right to be angry with her captor. But not with you. And not with God."

"Oh, babies." Upon entering the room, Tess appeared overwhelmed with emotion. Janet seemed speechless and shocked.

"Monica's…mother?"

"Not really, Janet," Tess chuckled, walking over to Monica. "I am an angel also, you see."

Janet gave a helpless look at first, and then appeared incredibly thankful and amused. "Well, aren't we looked after, Shelly?"

"You are," Tess told kindly. "And it'll be a long and hard road to heal from here, but God will be there through it all. And plenty of angels will be sent to help. But Monica's assignment isn't over quite yet. She'll have to leave to continue her work."

In a moment of bittersweet realization, Monica looked at Janet and Shelly. They were a beautiful family of two, having endured so much pain and suffering. Before, she had asked herself by what miracle could a family stay so strong. But now she knew entirely that God was in control. Things happen for a reason. Most of the time, no one is to be blamed. It is simply that lessons are to be learned.

"Goodbye, Janet," Monica grinned with her still quivering lip. She quickly walked up to her friend and embraced her. "I'm so glad I could see you again."

"It's been a blessing, Monica."

With a solemn grin, I sat beside Emily in the waiting room. For the past few minutes, she had simply sat in silence, examining the lines on the palms of her hands. Nurses whisked by us frantically, and names of skilled doctors and needy patients rung out over the intercom, but I felt like Emily and I were in a small corner of the world where time had stopped. I had all the time in the world to say anything I wanted. I just didn't know how to form the words.

"I…I'm sorry," I started with a trembling voice. "You were taken…it was all my fault."

"JJ, it's alright-"

"Oh, Emily, I'm so sorry!" In moments, I was in tears again, and I couldn't help myself. For the past few months, the waterworks had been on and off, but now the dam had taken all the pressure it could stand. When Emily wrapped her arms around me, I felt hardly worthy. And when she started to chuckle, utter confusion overwhelmed me.

"You need to calm down, JJ," Emily laughed. "The last thing you need is more guilt on your mind."

"…What?"

"JJ, I know that you still feel guilty about Reid and Tobias Hankel," Emily informed softly. As she backed away from the hug, her eyes fell to the floor to show her discomfort. But she took my hands and squeezed them tightly. "You have to understand this, JJ. It wasn't your fault."

"She's right, JJ."

That Irish accent wasn't hard to recognize, and nor was the heavenly light that began to fill the waiting room. When I looked up to see Monica, I noticed that she was the only one in the room besides Emily and I. Monica wore that beautiful white dress that seemed to represent her identification as an angel. A frightened Emily looked at the grinning angel with wide eyes, and I felt her hands shaking slightly.

"…O'Dooley?"

"Emily, I'm not just an agent for the FBI," Monica smiled happily. "Actually, I wouldn't really consider myself any bit of a federal agent. I don't seem to handle it too well."

"What are you?"

"I'm an angel," Monica told calmly. "I know it may be hard for you to believe, Emily, but it's true. And JJ is my assignment, but I hope you don't mind that I talk to her right now while you're here."

"I'm…I'm dreaming," Emily assumed quickly.

"JJ," Monica called serenely, coming closer to Emily and I. "I already planted the seed earlier. Now is the time to truly live with the freedom God has given to you. It's not your fault for letting him go, and it's not even his fault for going in the first place. One man, through all his pain and suffering, decided to take Spencer, and that is all that you need to know."

"I could have stopped him…I should have stopped him…"

"You can't change the past, JJ," Monica assured lovingly. "You can only be grateful that there is a future for Spencer, and for you as well. During the short time I've been on this team, I've realized that you are a family. And families go through good times, and they go through good times. But no matter what happens, you have to keep moving. JJ, you're dwelling in one moment of your life that you haven't been able to move on from. Spencer has seen how you're guilty for something he thinks is his own fault, and it's hurting him inside."

"He…he thinks it was his own fault?" I questioned cautiously. "How could he think that?"

"All that is left to do is talk to each other," Monica said passionately. "If you'd only explain everything that you're both feeling, the guilt will be gone, and you can be better agents for the world, and better friends for each other."

Her words revealed the final truth to me. For so long, I wasn't sure if there was any way to recover from what I was feeling. I thought that perhaps I would eventually leave the FBI and move back to my small hometown. But her suggestion made perfect sense to me. I smiled a teary smile and nodded my head.

"I should have done that sooner," I chuckled somberly. "I had no idea he felt that way."

"You have a good heart, JJ," Monica beamed. "Don't let guilt weigh it down and drown out God's love."

"Thank you, Monica," I sighed blissfully.

"Goodbye, JJ," she called shakily.

And in a silent moment, she was gone. Nurses and doctors filled the room again, and I was left with a shocked Emily Prentiss beside me.

"My gosh, JJ, what just happened?" she exclaimed frantically.

"It's a long story," I assured shyly. "Maybe I'll tell you sometime."

A flurry of people entered the room, and Emily was pulled up from her chair by many FBI agents at the same time.

"My God, Emily, I thought we were going to lose you," Derek said intensely as he wrapped his arms around Emily.

"Oh, well, I'm alive…I think." Emily's eyes flashed towards me in horror, and I simply laughed quietly.

"Now that Emily and Shelly Morrison are safe, and the unsub is dead, I want a full description of what happened when Emily was taken," Aaron growled angrily, giving a serious look towards JJ. "I know someone messed up, and I wish to know exactly who it was." I felt my heart start to beat violently.

"It was simple, really," Emily started after receiving another hug from Reid. "Monica and I went through the tall grass, and JJ stayed on the edge of the field just in case he tried to escape."

"Really?" Aaron questioned suspiciously.

"Yep," Emily grinned. "Sounds like protocol to me."

"Is this really what happened, JJ?" Aaron asked with a terrifying rumble in his voice.

"I did stay outside the grass, Hotch," I promised timidly.

"Well then…we're glad you're alright, Emily," Aaron told genuinely. "Let's try not to let this happen again. Where's O'Dooley? I want to talk to her."

"Agent O'Dooley has been transferred."

I recognized the other angel, Andrew, walking towards us. His pleasant face was so peaceful. It was hard to think that he was the Angel of Death.

"Transferred?" Aaron exclaimed. "How could she be transferred? She was just at the police station a few hours ago. And I didn't receive any notification. Who are you, exactly?"

"Sometimes an agent plays a sole purpose for a short time," Andrew confirmed. "My name is Andrew." He flashed an FBI badge that I'm sure was just as temporary as Monica's. "I came to take Monica to her next assignment."

"In all my time as a Supervisory Special Agent, I've never witnessed a transfer like this," Aaron argued somewhat angrily.

"It's not you're call, Agent," Andrew smiled. "Only One has that call, and He doesn't need anyone's permission."

"It's an executive order, then?"

"I can't give details, but it's something like that," Andrew chuckled. "Goodbye."

As Andrew walked away, Hotch appeared desperate for answers. "This is the oddest thing I've ever seen.

"Um, JJ?"

My heart almost jumped as I heard Reid's meek voice. I turned to see him behind me with a cautious look on his face.

"Yes, Spence?"

"JJ, I was hoping we could talk."

My heart was now open to this talk. Perhaps I wasn't ready before. Maybe I still had a lot to learn. But now I could smile in Reid's presence and keep myself calm and collected. "I'd like that, Spence."

His surprised smile caught me off guard, and more joy than I ever expected filled my heart. Quietly excusing ourselves from the team, we made our way outside the hospital and went on a long, peaceful walk.


	8. Epilogue

On a Virginia beach where the high winds seemed die out for only a few miles and the thrashing waves calmed in this certain section, two angels stood together, dipping their twos into the sand. Monica was shivering slightly, wrapped in Tess' comforting arms. A melancholy look was upon her face, even as the perfect weather made company for them. With a tight squeeze, Tess brought Monica back into reality.

"I know it was a touchy case, angel girl," Tess sighed wearily. "But you're strong, baby. And survived just as well as JJ and Shelly did."

A joyful smile broke through Monica's sullenness. "God's love is wonderful Tess. He sent Andrew to comfort Shelly…"

"And He sent Andrew to all of those girls, baby," Tess assured happily.

"I can't believe I…doubted God," Monica started shakily. "I thought He wasn't there for those girls. I thought He was going to let them die alone!"

"Oh, Monica," Tess whispered lovingly, holding the poor girl ever so closer. "We all have times where we think we are forsaken by God. But the good news is that whenever we succumb to such a lie, God's grace is always there for us when we ask Him for it."

Giving another sleepier grin, Monica looked up at the sky, though the clouds nor the nearby airplanes were her intended sight. With a wobbly laugh, she began to thank God for his many blessings and his almighty grace. It was by this grace that she served, and it was by this grace that she would live. Forever and ever.


End file.
